Unconditional
by pam j aulio
Summary: Stiles and Lydia encounter danger while investigating the murders that continue to occur in Beacon Hills, which strangely manages to bring them closer together. Stydia. Post-Unleashed. More chapters to come! Reviews greatly appreciated!
1. Chapter 1

Against his better judgment, Stiles had driven with Lydia to a small abandoned building on the edge of town. One of Lydia's cryptic visions had led the two of them to the location, and while Stiles preferred not to investigate such a potentially dangerous place without the help of Scott, his werewolf of a best friend was not answering his phone. And Stiles figured that contacting Derek or Isaac would be futile—they had better things to do than to follow what they would consider a questionable lead from a questionable source.

But Stiles knew that there was more to the seemingly supernatural phenomena surrounding Lydia, and that the subject warranted his full attention. He had no idea what was happening to her, and that scared him. But whatever it was that was affecting her had led her to the dead body of the boy at the pool, so it could potentially direct them to more clues about the murders. They needed all the help they could get at this point—the body count was rising, and they could not afford to waste any more time. Attempts at online research concerning druids and darachs had proven unsuccessful, leading only to fantasy gaming pages, and Dr. Deaton had refused to speak further on the subject.

Consequently, when Lydia had had another episode the day after Mr. Harris had gone missing, she knew this was probably the best chance for them to discover more information, and immediately called Stiles (instead of calling the police this time). He picked her up in his Jeep, and although she could not explain how she knew which turns to take, they had arrived at the abandoned building.

They had entered the eerie building now, and were looking through piles of rubble and debris, wondering what had led Lydia here.

And then it happened.

Stiles thought he had found something and turned into a side room, away from Lydia. As he was examining a strangely familiar symbol carved into a wall, he heard a bloodcurdling scream from behind him. He jumped and his stomach immediately sank.

Lydia.

He spun around and sprinted to the other room. As he turned the corner, he saw Lydia lying on the ground, screaming in agony, holding her limp left arm which appeared to be bent at an unnatural angle.

And looming over her was the form of a giant humanoid figure, shadowed in the darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Don't worry, actual Stydia interaction and dialogue is coming! This was originally going to be a one-chapter one-shot, and the whole building event was only going to be summarized as exposition, but then I thought there was no reason not to expand on it. Keep reviewing, and I'll keep writing! Thanks! :)**

Stiles quickly considered his options. There really weren't very many. The eight-foot-tall figure was standing in complete darkness and Stiles could not make out any details, but he knew that whatever it was, it was not a werewolf. Although attempting to run up and attack the creature would probably be suicide, there was not enough time to call for help or find an alternative tactic. The figure looked as if it was about to swing forward and strike Lydia again.

And there was no way in hell that Stiles was going to let that happen. She was screaming in pain already, and while Stiles may have given up his longstanding crush for her, he still cared for her deeply. Over the last year, he had actually started to get to know her fairly well. She was no longer an artificial fantasy, the subject of a shallow infatuation; she was real flesh and blood, a genuine human being. Investigating the recent events in Beacon Hills had brought them closer together, and she might even consider him a true friend. Stiles had come to terms with the fact that he loved her unconditionally, if not romantically.

And so in a moment of sheer desperation, he yelled as loud as he could and charged toward the shadowed being, drawing its attention away from Lydia.

The figure froze for a split second. While it was certainly not afraid of Stiles, it appeared that it was not expecting any response like that.

Stiles was less than ten feet away from the thing when he heard a growl coming from the doorway behind it. The towering figure turned its shadowed head, and Stiles, too, looked into the doorway. He was not expecting to see Scott crouching there, with amber-glowing eyes, fangs bared, and claws out, ready to lunge at the enemy.

The being turned back to Stiles, and although he could not see its facial features, he sensed overwhelming anger and frustration emanating from is position. It took a sidestep and to Stiles' amazement, simply disappeared into the darkness without a trace.

Stiles let out a sigh of relief. He ran over to Lydia, who was now whimpering, covered in dirt, grime, and a small amount of blood from being slammed to the floor.

"Lydia," he exclaimed. He gently held her up, careful not to touch her damaged arm. She looked up at him, but did not respond.

"It's okay," he comforted her, looking into her dark blue eyes. "It's over. You're okay."

"We need to get out of here," Scott exclaimed, "before that thing comes back. It may not be alone the next time it does."

"Help me carry her out. I think her arm is broken," Stiles replied. He had no idea how Scott had even found them, but he would have to express his gratitude for the rescue later. They carefully supported Lydia, one on each side, and walked her out.

Once they were out of the building, Scott said, "She needs a hospital."

Stiles grimaced. "I know". While trying to explain what had happened to the medical staff would be difficult, Scott was right. "Call your mom. We're going to need her help to cover everything up."

Scott nodded. "You're welcome, by the way."

Stiles looked over to his best friend. "Sorry. We'll discuss it later. I kind of have another priority right now, Scott."

They made it to the Jeep and Stiles gave the keys to Scott. He helped Lydia in, and as they rushed to the hospital, he kept an eye on her the entire way, deeply concerned.


	3. Chapter 3

Mrs. McCall was waiting for them when they arrived at the hospital. As soon as Stiles and Scott got Lydia out of the Jeep, she was whisked away from them, leaving Stiles worried and relieved at the same time.

"She'll be all right, Stiles. She just broke her arm," Scott assured him.

"You don't understand—she's an emotional mess right now. You know the whole Peter Hale resurrection thing? Yeah well that's not the half of it. Explain to me why she keeps having memory lapses. How did she find that body? How did she find out that Mr. Howard and Mr. Harris were missing? And how did she find that building? You should have seen her when she was guiding me there—it was like she was in a trance. It wasn't the Lydia I know, and I couldn't shake her out of it. Something's going on with her, and I don't like it. By the way, how did _you_ find the building?"

"I got your message and followed your scent."

Stiles raised an eyebrow.

Scott shrugged. "Like I've told you, you've got a...strong... smell."

"Oh. Well, it was a good thing you got there when you did. I was charging toward that... thing like a freakin' crazy person and—"

"And you would have got yourself killed."

"You don't know that!" said Stiles, incredulous at Scott's lack of faithfulness.

Now Scott raised an eyebrow.

"...Okay, yeah, probably. But what was I supposed to do? It was attacking Lydia, and I couldn't just pull out claws and fangs like you did to scare it off." Stiles sighed. "Anyways, it was fortunate that you showed up, and, uh... for what it's worth... thanks."

Scott nodded. "You're welcome. But I don't think that thing was afraid of me. It was just insanely angry. Whatever it was I have no idea why it didn't fight back. Did you get a good look at it?

"All I saw was damn darkness, it was just black—like, blackity black. Blacker than—"

"I got it," Scott interrupted, rolling his eyes. "Well I need to find Derek and tell him about this."

"Yeah, and you might want to ask him why I saw a familiar symbol carved into a wall in that freaking building—the same symbol that's tattooed on his back."

Scott furrowed his brows. "What?"

"Yeah, that's right. He'd better start giving us some real answers."

Scott sighed. "This just keeps getting more complicated. All right, well, stay here and look after Lydia."

"Really? Are you serious right now? You know I will. Go."

"Okay." Scott put a hand on Stiles' shoulder. "Seriously though. Lydia will be okay."

Stiles gulped and nodded. With that, Scott turned around and rushed down the hospital hallway. Stiles turned in the opposite direction, toward the ICU waiting room.

What he hadn't told Scott was that the horrific sound of Lydia screaming in pain had been replaying in his mind for the last half hour. There was probably nothing more debilitating to Stiles than the feeling of heartache that accompanied that sound.

And so for the second time in so many years, he waited patiently (actually, quite impatiently) for news of the well-being of the girl he loved unconditionally.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note: Yay! Finally some actual Stydia! Only a few more chapters to go! ****Hope you enjoy reading!**

Lydia woke up in a hospital bed. She could see by looking out of the window that the day had become night. She only vaguely remembered coming into the hospital in first place, and the events leading up to that were vaguer still.

But there was one thing she did remember very distinctly: the creature. Its massive, hunchbacked form; the smell of fungus, rotting wood, and pestilence surrounding it; the intense anger in its barely visible glowing green eyes. She knew that the image would forever haunt her mind.

She looked down at her arm. It had been put into a sling. Despite the fact that she was probably on some kind of pain medication, it stilled throbbed, but with a less intense, more dull pain. She also saw that all of the cuts and scrapes on her body had been treated.

She looked up to see a figure standing in the doorway. She started and gave a short yelp of surprise.

"Oh! Crap! I'm sorry!" Stiles said, holding out his hands. "It's just me, it's just me!"

"Stiles!" she said said with exasperation.

"Sorry! I'm sorry!" He replied.

She exhaled and neither of them said anything for a moment. Then Stiles slowly walked closer, scratching his head.

"It's, uh... good to see you awake and well."

"Why are you even here?"

Stiles was taken aback. "Um, I had to make sure that you were okay!" He looked at her intently. "Do you even remember what happened?"

Lydia slowly shook her head. "Not really..."

He sighed. "Great. Just when I perform all the heroics..."

She glared at him.

"Okay, so, maybe I didn't _really_ do much, and Scott actually rescued us, but, still..." He paused. "So you really don't remember anything?"

She blinked and gave a fake smile. "Nothing. Oh, except for the nine-foot-tall monstrosity that was attacking me," she replied bitterly. "That left a pretty large, nasty impression."

Stiles winced. Despite the sarcastic front that she was putting up, he knew Lydia, and could see that she was genuinely shaken up from the ordeal. "Yeah, I'm sorry. It's really my fault, I never should have separated myself from you. I'm sorry. You're okay now, though. That thing left when it knew its ass was about to be kicked. It's over, just don't think about it anymore."

"How did we even get there?"

Stiles explained, to Lydia's disbelief, how he had received a call from her, and how she had guided him to the building. While he was at it, he filled in all of the details regarding how they had escaped and made it to the hospital.

"So it's really _my_ fault," she whispered.

"No. No, no, no, Lydia," Stiles assured her, crouching at the side of her bed and holding her hand. He looked into her eyes. "Whatever is happening to you, it's not your fault. And I know you're not just going crazy. We may not understand why these episodes keep happening, but we are not about to let them get the best of you. You're Lydia freaking Martin. I'll help you through this. We can figure this out together."

Lydia looked into his golden brown eyes, wondering why she had never really noticed their beauty before. Perhaps his longer hair brought them out more. She felt comforted by his words, and softly squeezed his hand before letting go.

He gave her a small smile. "Uh, so, I figured... since your parents are out of the country right now, and since I drove you into this mess in the first place, that you could probably use a ride home."

Lydia furrowed her brow and turned her head, looking out of the open door into the hallway. "Are they going to just to let me go?"

"Yeah, um... it might be better if the hospital staff don't get a chance to ask any more questions."

"You're going to try to sneak me out of here," Lydia said flatly.

"Pretty much. Scott's mom helped us convince everybody that you simply fell, and it's only because of her that no one has come in here again. We should... go."

She sighed. "Fine. I just want to go home anyway."

As she got out of the bed, she grimaced, and Stiles attempted to help her, but she stopped him. "I can walk," she said.

Quickly and quietly, they made their way out of the hospital. As they passed by Mrs. McCall, Stiles gave her a quick nod, an implicit signal of gratitude. She only rolled her eyes and shook her head in response.

They made it outside to Stiles' waiting Jeep, and it was only then that Lydia realized she had allowed Stiles to hold her hand all the way there.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: I know this kind of ends abruptly, but don't worry! The next chapter will be up soon! It will be an... eventful chapter... possibly the last one... Keep reading and reviewing! I would really appreciate any comments and/or criticism. And please call me out on any grammar mistakes. Like seriously. Thanks! Until next chapter!**

For the first few minutes, the drive to Lydia's house was awkwardly silent, as both of them still felt responsible for everything that had happened. Stiles would forever blame himself, and Lydia, even after hearing Stiles' words of consolation in the hospital room, also felt some guilt and even some embarrassment, because she had led them on a wild goose chase, and had probably appeared to be insane while doing so. She would never dare make her embarrassment obvious, but Stiles, who considered himself an expert on all things Lydia Martin, guessed at the truth.

So he broke the silence and told her about the symbol on the wall, proving that their time spent in the abandoned building had produced at least one helpful result. For a large portion of the drive to Lydia's house, they continued to discuss and analyze all of the clues that they had found up to that point. There was still awkward tension in the car, and their discussion only resulted in inconclusive speculation, but they both secretly appreciated having an intelligent conversation with another intelligent person.

"So do you actually believe that the alpha pack has nothing to do with this?" Stiles asked.

"I don't know. They seem to be pursuing a different objective... What if Gerard is behind it?" Lydia conjectured.

Stiles grunted. "I hope not. After what happened last time, I'm sure he'd think twice before showing his old-ass face in town again... What if it's... Coach Finstock?" Stiles questioned dramatically, obviously making a joke.

Lydia rolled her eyes. "Yeah. Like that weirdo is capable of something like this."

Stiles shrugged. "You never know. That guy hates me so much, I wouldn't be surprised if he did it just to spite me."

"You know, I think he treats you like that because he actually likes you."

Stiles snorted. "Yeah. Right. 'STILINSKI!,'" he said, in his best Finstock impression. "'DROP AND GIVE ME... SOME LOVIN'!'"

Lydia looked at Stiles incredulously. And then they both burst out laughing. Stiles realized that that was probably the first time he had even made her laugh—this was a side of Lydia that she had never shown to him before. He was glad that her mood had brightened, at least somewhat. He looked over at her and gave her a small, lopsided smile. She returned the smile before he had to turn his attention back on the road.

About five minutes later, they arrived at Lydia's house. Stiles turned off the Jeep.

"Okay, here we are. Let me help—"

As Stiles turned his head, he saw that she was now fast asleep. He smiled and simply stared at her, taking in her beautiful features for the umpteenth time in his life. _She's even beautiful when she's_ _asleep_, he thought. _Especially when she sleeps, actually_. And after all of the events of that day, he was not surprised that she had succumbed to her tiredness. She had already slept for a while in the hospital room, but she still needed some rest.

Although he hated to disturb the sleeping beauty, Stiles knew that Lydia could not really spend the night out in his car.

"Lydia," he whispered, leaning forward and gently shaking her shoulder. She only tossed for a moment and rolled her head to the other side, still asleep. "Lyd," he repeated. No response, except for soft, rhythmic breathing, still indicative of sleep.

He sighed, giving up and leaning back against his seat again. He softly ran his fingers through her strawberry blonde curls, trying to determine what he should do next. And then he made a bold decision. He quietly jumped out of the Jeep and walked to the front door of her house. It was unlocked. He would discuss with her later how important it was to take every safety precaution with a murderer on the loose in Beacon Hills.

He walked back to the passenger side of the Jeep and opened the door. Careful not to touch her broken arm, he placed one of his own against her back and the other under her knees. With that, he picked her up, ever so gently pulled her out of the Jeep, and started to carry the girl he loved to her house.

As he made his way to the front door, Lydia slowly opened her eyes, and realized where she was.

"Stiles, what are y—"

"Shhh," he interrupted her. She gave him a momentary glare of annoyance, but Stiles swore he saw the corner of her mouth curve upward as she turned her head to look forward.

She gave no further objections as he entered the house and carried her up to her room.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's note: Hi everybody! Thanks for all of the reviews and follows! I intended this to be the last chapter, but I'll probably write an epilogue of sorts if people are interested. A few plot points from the first chapters have been left unresolved, so maybe I'll address those as well. Anyways, I should probably leave a warning about this chapter. **

**WARNING! About two-thirds of the way into this chapter, it gets kind of... steamy. Not enough to change the rating, but be warned!**

**I own nothing! Thanks for the support! Read and review!**

Lydia never thought that anyone would actually carry her like a princess to her bed. Doing something like that was definitely not the style of any of her previous boyfriends, especially not of Jackson. She realized it was really just a silly, girlish, clichéd dream of hers.

And yet here she was. Maybe it should have seemed ridiculous, but she secretly enjoyed it. And while she had never imagined Stiles to be the one carrying her, to her own surprise, it felt right. She knew that coming from him, the boy who for some reason cared for her so deeply, the gesture was sincere. She felt safe in his surprisingly strong arms.

When Stiles reached her room, he gingerly set her down on her bed.

She looked up at him, whispering, "And despite what I told you last time, you still saw me all the way to my room."

He shrugged. "Sorry. I just... need to make sure you're safe."

She decided to reach up, playing with the hair that he had finally grown out, but confusion played across her face. "Why, Stiles? Why me?"

Stiles lowered himself and knelt beside her bed, staring into her eyes. "I don't know. I can't explain it. I can't explain why I always feel like I need to protect you. I don't know why I can't imagine a life without you still here. I'm not sure why I can't _stand_ it when I see you get hurt."

Lydia saw tears start to stream out of his eyes, and her heart melted.

"When I heard you scream today," he slowly continued, "It was like... a million daggers had stabbed me in the chest. It _broke_ me. That sound of absolute anguish... it's been echoing through my mind all day." He squeezed her hand, and with his voice nearly breaking, stressed, "I _never _want to hear you scream like that again."

She slowly sat up and stroked his cheek, obvious concern showing on her face while a thousand additional emotions overwhelming her. And in that moment, Lydia realized that she could no longer deny her feelings for this boy. She forgot about all the pretenses she had always put up that had led to meaningless relationships with popular guys. Stiles may have been relatively unpopular and awkward, but he was genuine. He was funny, intelligent like herself. She saw the truthfulness of the affection in his beautiful brown eyes. The loving devotion he gave her was entirely idiosyncratic to him, and nobody else in her life would ever be able to match it. He was the boy who knew who she was, who would die for her, who loved her deeply and unconditionally—the boy she finally accepted.

So she leaned in, gently wiping the tears off his face, and kissed him.

For a split second, Stiles simply froze against the contact, shocked, but soon he was passionately responding to her lips, cupping her face with his hands. Almost immediately, the million daggers in his chest were replaced with a million butterflies in his stomach. The dread and anxiety that had been chasing him all day dissipated, peace and contentment taking their place. In that moment, a thousand emotions flooded over _him_ as well, and he realized that _he _could not deny his feelings for this girl, feelings that had always been romantic. For the past few months, he had been trying to forget that, forcing himself to get over her, but he now knew that would never happen. His unconditional love for her was stronger than time itself.

Lydia broke away for a moment, staring deep into his eyes again. "I don't deserve you," she whispered.

Stiles shook his head. "Are you kidding me? You're Lydia Martin, the strongest, smartest, most overwhelmingly beautiful girl—_woman_ I know. You deserve only the best."

She pulled away and raised an eyebrow, trying to hold back a smile. "So... you're saying _you're_ the best?"

"W—uh—well no, that's not what I meant... I mean, yeah, I've always thought of myself as intelligent and moderately good-looking, but maybe not the—uh... I guess what I meant to say was that _I_ really don't deserve _y—_"

"Stiles. Shut up," she interrupted, and kissed him again.

He returned the kiss eagerly, one hand on her cheek and the other running through her perfect hair. Shortly, the energy between them was becoming more and more intense ly passionate. Her free hand roamed to the bottom of his shirt, and Stiles was surprised when she reached up underneath it, exploring his taut abdominal muscles. He lowered his hands to the small of her back. They were both moaning into the kiss now, and suddenly, the distance between them was still too great. Lydia tugged at his shirt, pulling him onto the bed with her. He awkwardly lay half on top of her, because of her sling arm, before grabbing her and turning over so that she was on the top. His hands returned to the small of her back, then traveled lower still. She could feel his... anticipation against her thigh.

Lydia broke away again, seductively whispering in his ear, "Are you _sure _you never want to hear me scream again?"

His eyes widened immensely.

Lydia rolled off of Stiles, both of them panting.

"Holy shit," he said between breaths. "Wow. Lyd, that was... I don't even... It was like blissful—"

"Okay, Stiles. Shut up," she said, for the second time that night. She then proceeded to simply nuzzle against him and close her eyes.

For once, Stiles remained silent. He smiled and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. And despite everything that was undoubtedly lurking outside in Beacon Hills, he was perfectly content to spend the rest of the night embracing the girl he loved in the tranquil silence.


End file.
